Say Cheese!
by TheYummyPencil
Summary: One little nude picture can screw up everything. An arb, silly oneshot in which Sharpay must discover herself beyond the fame when her career tanks! Troypay towards the end!


**Author's Note: Okay! I've hit a **_**little bit**_** of a slump with Mad Monday. This idea came to me like a lightning bolt, while, incidentally, thinking about Vanessa Ann Hudgens' nude picture (not in **_**that**_** way! Although she looked pretty good). I thought, what if Sharpay has this GREAT career and then bam! A drunken night of scandal flushes it all! It'll be a Troypay towards the end, of course, and hopefully it'll get the wheels turning again for my other fic. It's just a lengthy one-shot, btw.**

**Oh, and I realize that in America today, Sharpay's bad publicity would probably help her career more than hurt it. But this is an alternate Hollywood where people actually get upset over nudity.**

**Disclaimer: I er…I don't own E! News. Does anybody actually OWN E! News? I'm asking. And most of all, I don't claim to own HSM.**

Say Cheese Part Un 

Anyone walking past Sharpay Evans' hotel room would have thought that the starlet was being murdered. From behind the door came her banshee-like wail, only emitted when things had gone suddenly, _terribly_ wrong.

"That evil, conniving _biatch_!" Sharpay stormed about her hotel room. Even the curly blonde tresses on her head seemed to quiver with rage. Ryan chased after her, trying to fan her with the very tabloid that had brought such shame upon her. Indeed, something had been murdered, and that something was Sharpay's career. Ryan finally tossed the magazine away, feeling bad just touching it.

Shar's pink sequined, feathered nightgown flowed out behind her as she fled to the balcony. Ryan followed dutifully. Before them, the lights of LA spread out, like a million fallen stars.

"I can't _believe_ I let her take those pictures," Sharpay continued, gripping the railing. "_I really want to be your _friend_, Sharpay! Let bygones be _freaking_ bygones, Sharpay_! She took advantage! Got me drunk and had me take off my clothes. Just like Zeke, without the sex and the prom!"

Ryan blinked. "I did _not_ want to know that." He quickly recovered and straightened his white fedora. "Look, Shar, I am speaking as both your PA and brother when I say this _isn't_ the end of the world."

"Yes, it is! It's the end of _my_ world! My career is over." She put her head down despairingly on the cool metal handrail and felt bitter tears well up in her eyes. "And my career is my life therefore my _life_ is over."

Ryan patted her back. "Aren't you being a _tad_ overdramatic?"

"Of course, I am! That's my _thing_. What, you think they would notice me for my _talent_? Nobody's noticed for talent anymore!"

"Well, screw them!" said Ryan. "You're the hottest popstar out there. You have a contract with the _Gap_! You've been featured on almost all of _E_!'s young, hot Hollywood lists! And you haven't even done a movie yet! You've accomplished _so much_, Shar. Enough."

"What do you mean, _enough_?" she said indignantly.

He shrugged, looking wary, as one does when they feel they are about to be bitch-slapped.

"I just mean…maybe you should…step back for a little while. You know, like, _take a break_?"

Sharpay snorted through her tears. "Step _back_? _Take a break_? And let that whining weasel Montez steal my spotlight?" Sharpay came towards him in one regal, threatening step. "Oh, _no_…" She pointed a finger. "It is _not_ over until the Gabriella sings. And we can take that bitch down before she ever hits the recording studio.**" **

With that she wept back into the room, emanating Sharpaic self-righteousness.

But unfortunately for Shar, not everyone took on such a positive attitude…

Part Deux 

"We _are_ sorry, Ms. Evans, but we feel these…_images_ have really dented your public persona. We simply _can't_ endorse you any longer."

Sharpay's eyes widened from behind her diamond-studded shades as she stared across the table. The stiff, balding man in the stiff black suit stared back efficiently, his associates looking grim and important. "But my album is No. 3!" she whispered. Ryan clutched her hand supportively while her agent, Marty spluttered.

"It _was_," said the suit, steepling his fingers. "But recently, _Greater Than The Haters_ has suffered the swiftest drop from the charts in the history of Disney Music. The parents obviously aren't pleased."

"Well, who _cares_ what a bunch of prudish parents think?" Marty piped up. She also sported black shades with Sharpay's initials on them, as did Ryan. Her two bodyguards outside were no different.

"We do, Ms. Evans. We care _very much_. Because it is the parents, _not_ the offspring, who fork out money for your CD. Now, it goes without saying, but in light of this scandal, you've become something of a…liability."

Sharpay stood, glittery pink shawl floating about her domineering blonde presence. "A _liability_? _A liability_! Listen to me, you talking corpse, I am _not_ a liability! I am Sharpay Freaking Evans!"

"And as of now you are also _fired_."

Shar froze. Fired? _Fired_? "You- you can't fire me," she whisper-screamed. "I- I made this company!"

The suits chuckled. "You cannot honestly believe that, Ms. Evans. Disney has been running since before your parents were _born_ and it will be running long after you have _died_. There are hundreds of girls lined up at this moment, ready to be the Next Big Thing."

"Like _who_?"

He shrugged. "Off the top of my head…_Gabriella Montez_."

Now Sharpay had been pretty damn cool for the past ten minutes or so. But upon hearing the name you can imagine her reaction was less than composed.

And so five minutes after attacking the CEO with her Gucci bag, Sharpay, Ryan and Marty were dragged off the premises by her own bodyguards.

"Oh, you are _so_ fired, Big Jim!" Sharpay shrieked after him. Big Jim tossed his shades out after her in response.

Just as her Range Rover was pulling up, a dozen paparazzi raced across the street, snapping away wildly and calling her name like she owed them money. One of them was very nearly ploughed by a Porsche but he was not deterred.

They made a hasty escape, and once within her ride, Sharpay issued another visceral shriek.

"It's okay," said Marty efficiently, sweeping jagged red hair out of her face. "We'll make this work, Sharpay."

"We better!"

As they drove to her condo Marty's cellphone rang. Sharpay could tell by the tone of her, "_Yeah, but_"s and "_I know, but_"s and her final, grim "_I understand_" that the discourse was not a pleasant one.

Ryan and Shar started expectantly. Marty cleared her throat. "That was the Gap. They might, maybe, have to…drop you from your contract."

Sharpay had never experienced a nervous breakdown, but there was no doubt in her mind that she was pretty close to one now…

Part Trois 

"_Coming up, on E! News! Singing sensation, Sharpay Evans' SHOCKING nude pics! Looks like another tale of Disney Girl Lost…"_

Sharpay turned off her TV with a huff. "Effing Guiliana DePandi! She'll _never_ get George Clooney."

Ryan nodded sympathetically.

It was a week later and things had only gotten worse. Crazy parents in the street were telling her she should be ashamed of herself, and that little girls looked up to her. For that, Sharpay did feel terrible, but she was not about to be told off by some limp-haired, middle-aged _soccer mum_ in a plain white T. Just that afternoon she had gotten into a spat with one of the monstrous breed and, of course, her friendly neighborhood shutterbugs had been there to capture it all. All her Hollywood and non-Hollywood friends were suddenly pulling out of dinner dates. Sharpay was no longer a resident of the V.I.P lounge. All of a sudden she was the freaking Bubonic Plague!

But then came the steering wheel on top of the trash heap…

Ryan answered the phone and took it outside the apartment, a sign that something distressing was going on. He returned ten minutes later, looking rather anxious.

"That was um…_Marty_."

"Yeah? What's up?"

"She uh…" Ryan tapped the phone against his palm. "She said she's _sorry_, Shar. But you're a sinking ship. And she can't be the captain."

Sharpay blinked. "And I guess that crappy analogy is her way of saying she's done with me."

"It's nothing personal," he said hastily. "It's not that she's _leaving_ you. She's just…found a more profitable project."

"And who's the profitable project?" said Shar huffily.

"_Gabriellamontez_," he practically whispered.

Sharpay stood slowly. "_What_?"

"Gabriella…Montez?"

Now Ryan had very much been expecting the bitch-slap, so what happened instead was awfully surprising. Sharpay burst into tears and fled to the bathroom.

All she ever wanted was to be a star. The thing about stars, though, was, no matter how big and beautiful they were, they got awful lonely. And Sharpay was no exception. When she was being given so much, she forgot how little she really had. Now that it was being taken away, there was no denying the fact that she had jackshit.

Ryan came in a few minutes later and sat down by the bathtub with her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Sharpay sniffed and leaned her head against his. "It's funny how a few pictures mess up everything, huh?"

He nodded and they were silent for a while, enjoying each other's company, as they had twenty-four years ago in their pushy stage-mother's womb.

"You know what I think you should do?"

"What?"

"I think you should go back to New Mexico for a while." Sharpay scoffed. "_Seriously_. Why not? That was our home. Mum and Dad are there, and _East High _and Lava Springs. And Troy."

Sharpay smiled a little. "Haven't seen him in years…"

"That's a _long_ time," said Ryan pensively. "You always did have a crush on him. Wouldn't that make you feel better? To see him again?"

And without even realizing it, Sharpay's thoughts were being swayed towards Albequerque. Not that they needed much swaying…

Part Quatre 

"_Pay-pay_!"

"_Daddy_!"

Mr. and Mrs. Evans arrived to pick Sharpay up in her pink convertible. After exchanging hugs and air-kisses, and Mrs. Evans reassuring her she would go back to being famous soon enough, they made their way home. Sharpay had never been one for nostalgia, probably because she had never acknowledged how much she missed Albequerque. Nothing had changed, except the place seemed emptier.

She knew Kelsi was making a name for herself in New York as a concert pianist, Zeke was studying at some prestigious chef's academy, Chad was studying Harvard Law (which was the most shocking to her as she had doubted he could even read), and Taylor was at MIT. She knew Troy was here, and she both anticipated and dreaded seeing him. It was the anxiety, the desperation to please him, even after all this time.

Sharpay knew what _Gabriella_ was doing. _Stealing her life_. Not that she minded much at the moment.

The first evening back was actually fun (they had dinner at home) although a little empty with Ryan in LA. Mrs. Evans berated Sharpay with strategies on how to reclaim her fame and stick it to "those Disney Demons." And there were no fat photographers flitting around her constantly. As a diva, Sharpay felt she should desire the paparazzi's attention, and yet there was an undeniable relief in being able to buy tampons without ending up on the cover of _Us Weekly. _

In the next two days Sharpay figured (as she would be returning to LA in a week or so) she should visit East High. There was something very sad about seeing the big red Es and the packed classrooms, and knowing none of her friends were there. Her high school peers were the closest thing Sharpay had had to friends in a while.

Just when she was getting weepy, Sharpay turned a corner and instantly collided with a lean figure in a dark shirt and jeans. As she looked up at the man, her apologies faded into silence. He was _not_ a man. He was _Troy Bolton_. The red and white sneakers gave him away.

"Sharpay?" Troy exclaimed, eyes widening. "You're really here!" Before she knew what was happening she was being pulled into a tight hug. Sharpay was hugging Troy Bolton. She was smelling Troy Bolton's cologne. She was practically making out with Troy Bolton's pecs. This was a dream. This was the best dream she had ever had. Better than her Grammy dreams, and her George Clooney dreams, and her six-car dreams combined.

They disengaged and Shar struggled for something cool and winning to say. "Hi. _Troy_," was all she could come up with as she smiled. Was it possible? Was Sharpay Evans _star-struck_?

She tucked her hands into her jean pockets. The last time he had hugged her like that was graduation. They both seemed to acknowledge without words that they would probably never see each other again, and they both seemed to acknowledge without words that it hurt.

Troy ran a hand through his hair, darker now, setting off the freakishly blue eyes. He had gotten a little taller, his voice deeper, and he had an air of responsibility about him. She felt a little ashamed suddenly. Like she had not grown up enough.

"What're you doing here?" she asked when her brain mercifully kicked into gear.

"You didn't hear? I teach. _Coach_ really."  
"Basketball?"

"Like father like son, right?"

"Right. Well," she said wryly. "You should've stuck with me, Troyboy. You'd be playing for the Red Hawks right now."

"Skinny white kid, barely six feet tall? I don't think so."

She rolled her eyes. "I was kidding."

"Me too. But I wouldn't trade this for anything, even if I could."

She smiled. "That is…_really great_, Troy," she breathed. And she meant it. His contentment with the hereditary middle-class life was endearing.

They began to walk together. "So I bet you're too cautious to ask what _I'm_ doing here, huh?"

He hesitated. "Well, I saw the pictures. I mean…" he blushed. "I _heard_ about them."

Sharpay grinned slyly. "_Sure_ you did, Troy. You and the rest of America _heard_ about them."

"Hey, I didn't go looking for them! I watch E! News sometimes. Just to see if you'll turn up. And you certainly did turn up. But I only saw the…_blurred_ version, if that's any comfort."

Surprisingly, it was comforting. She doubted he was lying which meant he, unlike most, had respected her enough to not go surfing the Net to take a look at her in detail.

"I'm really sorry about all that, Sharpay."

She shrugged. "Comes with the territory, right?" She paused.

A moment of silence. "Well, look on the bright side-"

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

He grinned. "If all this hadn't gone down, you never would've come back." She shrugged in reluctant accordance. "Hey, you know what'd make you feel better? _Pizza_."

"Mmm…my favorite diet cheat!"

Troy nodded. "I know. I remember." Sharpay looked up at him again, trying to catch his expression but he stared straight ahead. "So do you wanna go? Today? We can catch up and reminisce and whatnot."

Sharpay smiled and flipped her curly blonde tresses. "You know, Troy. That sounds like a splendidly _un_Hollywood idea…"

_**Part Cinq**_

Sharpay loved the pizza place so much she decided to meet Troy there again the evening after next. And then he told her about a great new Italian eatery that had opened so she figured they should check that out too before she left. Then Troy asked if she would like to check out that new Martin Scorcese film, and maybe after the next day they could check out Lava Springs …

Three weeks passed she had not left, despite her mother's prodding that Hollywood waited for no woman. She called Ryan one afternoon, after watching Troy coach the new crop of Wildcats.

"So how's Albuquerque treating you, Shar?"

"_Surprisingly_," she drawled. "I have yet to die of boredom! Mum and Dad say hi. And Troy. You were right. It _is_ kinda nice to see him after all this time. He's a basketball coach, you know. He's got his own apartment and everything! And you know, he said something _really_ interesting to me the other day."

"What was that?"

"He said I should think about becoming an acting coach or something. You know, teach classes and whatnot. I have the money. I could open my own studio. I mean it's not that I'm seriously considering _staying_ here or anything. It's just…interesting."

All the way in LA, Sharpay could not see Ryan grinning. "That _is_ interesting. Tell everybody I said hi, too."

"I will. I've gotta go now."

"Me, too. Love you, Shar. Bye."

Ryan switched off his cellphone and looked with a smile to Gabriella, reclining in her pool chair, soaking up as much sunlight as possible. He lifted his shades up so as to observe her properly from where he sat by her feet.

"You know," she said pensively, "we may have had good intentions, but I don't think Sharpay knows what good intentions _look_ like. What if she finds out?"

"Oh, she won't. And even if she does, I doubt she'll care."

Gabriella giggled at his mischievous expression. "You _are_ the evil twin, aren't you?"

Ryan tilted his head as Gabriella sat up to kiss him. "If you want me to be." He grinned. "It's funny how a few pictures fix everything, huh?"

**Author's Note: For anyone who didn't grasp my attempt at a twist, Ryan set the whole thing up with the pictures, to try and get Sharpay out of Hollywood! Gabriella was the only other person in on it, as she's been into Ryan since graduation. So they want the same things for different reasons! **

**I hopey you likey! Did you see the Ryella comin'? Did ya? Did ya? **

**Now, the way I've written this…it feels like there should be a one-shot to finish it off. But let me not get ahead of myself! You might think it's crap! Considering the time at which I started writing this it probably is. And I've got another fic to finish. Speaking of which…**

**Hey yo, DERNIER CRI! Long time no PM! If you, or any of my other lovely reviewing friends have ideas to give my imagination a kick in the ass, please feel free to contribute! **

**Reviews appreciated mucho.**

**GBU**


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